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Oh, Give Me A Home (3/3)
06/16/11(Thu)01:49 No.26876417
File1308203353.jpg-(42 KB, 640x360, 3 - Chief.jpg)
 But then it dripped onto his tongue. The sweetness of the pie forgave him, beckoned him to sit down at the table. Ma was finishin' the corn, Pa was sayin' grace, and Sissy had her eyes open. He would'a said somethin' to Pa, but that would'a revealed he had his eyes open too, so he didn't say nothin'.
He swallowed the filling-soaked crust, then opened his eyes. The confusion was gone. He rose to his hooves, and licked the rest of the pie from his face.
In that instant, Chief Thunderhooves knew the joys and the hardships of every earthpony who had a hoof in making the pie. A deep satisfaction filled his belly, and his heart.
"Yum!" he said, then stared at the ponies in front of him with new eyes. The apple pie still dripping from his mouth told him one very important thing: the settlers had the sanction of the land.
The desert of his tribe's stampeding grounds yearned for the earthponies, and sought to please them. For the first time since the Great Night a thousand summers ago, when ground-cover plants died and rivers changed course, the land had hope. He could never forget what he now knew.
The sensations of the apples' residual love for their masters faded in moments, but his excitement grew, because the land itself had an answer for their dispute.
"Hey," he said, "I've got a much better idea!"
-
Braeburn smiled. He didn't know how under the sun it happened, he didn't see how nobody had noticed before now, but there was a line of older trees with less pleasing cultivars running right through the center of the orchard. They would come down, and the buffalo would be appeased.
He had known each transplanted tree for years, but now it was time to say goodbye. He walked through the orchard and placed a hoof on each. This calmed them all, put them in a mid-day sleep so they wouldn't feel the axes. That mercy, at least, he owed them. |
